


Better than Brooding

by helsinkibaby



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Het, Porn Battle, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 06:06:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11351424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: When Thea wakens to an empty bed, she knows just what to do.





	Better than Brooding

**Author's Note:**

> For the second Porn Battle Golden Oldies - prompts from PB XIV: John Diggle/Thea Queen, grown-up, admiration, betrayal

When Thea, still half asleep, stretches out her hand to find not a warm body, but empty space beside her, not only that but cold empty space, she wakes up right away. A shiver that has nothing to do with temperature runs through her as she rises, pulls her robe from the hook on the back of her bedroom door and makes her way through her apartment. It's scant relief when she reaches the living room, illuminated only by a single lamp in the corner of the room, and sees John sitting on her couch. There's a glass of bourbon on the table in front of him and one of his arms is propped up on the arm of the couch with that hand resting on his chin. He's staring straight ahead, looking pensive and Thea bites back a sigh because she knows that look, has seen it before. 

"You going to stand there all night?" 

John doesn't look around when he speaks and she can see the faintest of smiles playing around the edges of his lips. She's on more familiar ground suddenly, crosses her arms over her chest and stares him down archly. "Maybe I will," she says, letting a hint of challenge creep into her voice. "Sneaking out in the middle of the night... you could give a girl a complex, you know." 

His smile begins to broaden as she starts to speak but it dies suddenly and as she replays her words in her head, she understands why. Fighting the urge to bite off her tongue, she does what she hates doing and plays dumb. "So, what has you out here brooding?" 

John looks at her then, eyes dark and serious, far more serious than they should be considering her state of undress, and his - he managed to find his pants but not his shirt and she has to drag her gaze up to his face so that she can concentrate. Well, kind of. 

"You know." 

Thea presses her lips together, breathes out slowly through her nose. Tightening her arms around her chest, she takes a step towards him. "We've talked about this." 

"I know." He tilts his head to the side. "But." 

He goes no further; he doesn't have to. "John, we are not betraying anyone," she reminds him, not for the first time. "Lyla left you. A long time ago." The memory of John's heartbreak is still clear; she's still nowhere near close to forgiving the other woman for that, even if she's not exactly displeased with the current outcome. 

"And Oliver? What about your brother?" 

A dozen smartass remarks run through Thea's head but she gives voice to none of them. "My brother has nothing to do with us." 

He lifts an eyebrow. "He's my best friend," he points out. "And I'm seventeen years older than you. You don't think that's going to be an issue for him? You were a kid when we met..."

"I'm not a kid any more." She interrupts him out of pure anger and frustration. "After everything I've been through since I've known you, everything _we've_ been through... you're seriously telling me you think age is a factor for anything?" 

John inclined his head, his way of conceding her point. "It mightn't matter to us," he amends. "But other people-"

"Screw other people." Her phrasing makes his lips twitch and she rolls her eyes as she crosses the room to stand beside him. "I'm the oldest twenty-six year old you're ever going to meet," she tells him. "And I'm old enough to decide who I want to spend my nights with." With all the skill of her years of training, she moves quickly, straddling him in one smooth motion. Almost automatically, his hands go out, rest on her hips and since her movement had loosened the tie on her robe, it only takes a little shimmy to have it gaping loose completely. "I'm not a kid, John." 

"No." His eyes roam up and down her torso and chest, admiration clearly evident. "No, I can see you're all grown-up." He slides his hands up her sides and back down again and she rocks against him. The effect she has on him is instant and his eyes shift from admiration to desire. She does it again, reaching up to tuck her hair back behind her ears before bringing her hands to his shoulders. 

"I know what I want." She slides one hand up to cup the back of his head, lets the other one move down to cover his heart. "Who I want." Anything more she might have said is replaced by a gasp when one of his hand moves up to cup her breast, fingers caressing gently before his thumb swipes over her nipple. His lips curl then in a wicked smile and she laughs breathlessly as she arches into the touch. It's light, teasing, designed to frustrate as much as to arouse her but she lets him continue, enjoying the sensations zinging up her spine, the pleasant pool of arousal building low in her belly. 

That desire spikes sharply when he leans forward, pressing an open mouthed kiss to her other breast, then another and another, all the while keeping up the slow stroking with his other hand. She hums low in her throat with satisfaction, leaning into him, raking her nails along the back of his neck. She grinds down against him and he rewards her by taking her nipple into his mouth, circling his tongue around it in exactly the way she likes. His name escapes her lips in a soft cry and her fingernails dig into his neck and she feels him smile but he doesn't lift his head. 

He doesn't lift his head or move his hand but he's strong enough to hold her in place as he lavished attention on her and only when she's shaking with need in his arms that he does. Lifting his head, he looks into her eyes as he slides one hand down her body, between her legs to the little bundle of nerves there. The second his finger moves across it, it's like a thousand volts of electricity shoot through her body and she throws her head back, her eyes closing of their own accord. 

"Look at me." His voice, soft and low, brings her back to reality and she does as he asks. His eyes are darker than she's ever seen them, pupils blown wide with lust and he moves his hand beteeen her legs as she braces herself with her hands on his shoulders, lifting herself up so that she can move against him. There's a whimper from somewhere and it takes her a second to realise that it's her voice, only does so when he smiles. "Good?" 

She nods quickly, still moving against him. "So good." Her voice is thin, reedy, nothing like her usual voice but she doesn't care. "So good. But I need..." His fingers still and she fights the urge to sob. 

"What?" It's a command. "Tell me what you need." 

All she can come up with is, "More... Please, John, more." 

His free hand slides up her back, tangles in her hair and pulls her down to kiss him. His other hand begins to move again and, as his tongue sweeps across her lips and she opens her mouth to grant him access, he slips two fingers inside her. She cries out, not in pain but rather in pleasure because it's exactly what she wants, exactly what she needs. Her mouth moves against his frantically as her body grinds down on his hand and she knows she's close but it's still a shock when her orgasm rips through her like a freight train and she's clenching around him, fingers digging so deep into his shoulders she'll be lucky not to draw blood. John doesn't seem to notice though, just keeps kissing her, keeps moving inside her, drawing out her release, prolonging it and she doesn't know how long it takes for her to come back to herself. 

She does know that when she does, she is slumped against him, boneless, her head resting on his shoulder, his hand tracing lazy patterns against her skin. "See?" she murmurs, pressing a kiss to his neck. "Definitely all grown up." 

"Definitely." Something about the way he says it is different and when she lifts her head, she sees a genuine smile on his face, a light in his eyes that hasn't been there in a while. His kiss this time matches that, slow and gentle and thorough and yet, even after the mind blowing orgasm she's just had, she feels herself wanting him all over again. "I know what I want too," he whispers against her neck and she smiles as she reaches between them to the clasp of his pants. 

"Took you long enough," she jokes but when she takes him in her hands, guides him to her entrance, it's not a laughing matter any more. She bites her lip against a moan as he fills her, bracing her hands against his shoulders and rising up before rocking back down on him, grinding against him with a little gasp of his name because if his fingers had felt good, then this is a million times better. It's so much better, in fact, that she knows it's not going to take much to make her come again and if the way his fingers are threatening to leave bruises on her hips is any indication, he's pretty much in the same boat. They rock together in a perfect rhythm and when she hears him grit out the words, "Fuck, Thea," she moves harder, faster, against him, comes with a shout of his name on her lips and he's right there with her, pulsing inside her as he crushes his lips against hers. 

As they both come down to earth again, she closes her eyes at the feel of his hands tracing patterns against the skin of her back, the curve of his lips as he kisses her neck. "Come back to bed," she murmurs and he stands more easily than he should, considering what they've just done, never losing his grip on her and carries her to the bedroom. 

When they get there, they still don't sleep. 

Thea doesn't mind.


End file.
